The Empty Box and Zeroth Maria
Book 1: Chapter 5

2,602^nd Time

“I’m Aya Otonashi.”

“—Guagh!”

In that instant, I’m hit with a flashback to that bloodred scene, locked away in the deepest depths of my memory despite how recently I witnessed it.

That scene is what slowly draws out my memories of the 2,601st transfer, like a thread pulling them directly from my brain.

I’m surprised I could keep myself from screaming.

“Hey, what’s the matter, Hosshi? You okay? You look like you’re in pain.”

Haruaki, who was sitting in the seat next to me, expresses his concern.

Even though a truck pulverized him, there he is, smiling and laughing beside me.

The wrongness of it all is overwhelming. I feel nauseated. The information floods over me, devouring me like I’m its prey. My mind can’t keep up with the rapid flow and is left completely behind.

My memories of the previous time and my memories of this time have connected.

It’s all so sharp and vivid.

“But, man, that Aya is too cute. I’m gonna go profess my love to her.”

And it’s thanks to Haruaki’s lifeless corpse.

Despite meeting such a grisly fate, he’s right here, head over heels in love with Aya Otonashi.

I look at the transfer student. At that moment, our eyes meet. She holds my gaze with a bold smirk.

…Was the corpse an attempt to back me into a corner and force me to hand over the Box?

If so, it was tremendously effective. The dead body threatened me with death, and my friend’s involvement crushed me with guilt. Otonashi is doing this of her own volition. I understand the rationale that says I’m not responsible, but the sight of that corpse scatters logic to the wind, and my mind simply can’t take it.

If I knew how, I would give her the Box right here and now. Fortunately, I have no idea how to do that.

Fortunately? Really? If this is an effective mode of attacking me, Otonashi’s going to keep it up.

Until my mind finally breaks for good.

She leaves the podium to stand beside me.

Then, looking straight ahead and not even glancing in my direction, she whispers:

“Looks like you remembered.”

✵

At this rate, I’m going to break.

I know all I’m doing is temporarily sidestepping the issue, but I still feign ignorance and avoid Otonashi.

I have to think up a plan while I buy myself some time.

That’s why…

“Is that all you wanted to ask me about, Kazu?”

…I’m asking for advice from Daiya Oomine, the smartest person I know.

Daiya doesn’t bother to hide his terrible mood as he leans against the wall of the hallway.

It’s probably because it took so long to explain everything. The breaks after first and second period, to be exact.

“So now what? You told me the idea for your little novel, so what exactly is it you want from me?”

My explanation to Daiya was exhaustive. I hadn’t left anything out.

Still, given the nature of the story, I didn’t think a down-to-earth realist like Daiya would believe it if I gave it to him straight. Which is why I said it was an idea for a book.

“I was just wondering what the protagonist of this story should do.”

“Well, regardless of anything else, he has to fight back against the transfer student.”

The protagonist in this situation is, of course, me, while the transfer student is Otonashi.

It was pretty obvious, so Daiya immediately picked up on the real identity of my characters. “Oh, so you based it on her?” he’d said with a smirk. Still, he doesn’t really seem to care, since I’m putting it forth as strictly fiction.

“But I don’t think the protagonist has any chance of winning.”

“You’re right. He probably doesn’t right now.”

My opponent is Aya Otonashi, someone who’s gone through 2,602 transfers to get ahold of the Box and isn’t afraid of using the corpses of my friends to manipulate me. I can’t think of a single item in my arsenal that would allow me to beat her.

“But it’s possible that at some point in the future, our hero will get some ability that’ll give him a fair chance,” Daiya states offhandedly.

“Really?”

Obviously, I came to Daiya in search of a way to oppose Otonashi, but I still feel like I’m grasping at straws. I honestly didn’t expect any sort of substantial revelation.

“What’s that look for? Fine, let me ask you this: Why doesn’t the protagonist have a chance against the transfer student?”

“Huh? Well, that’s—”

“No, no, don’t answer. A dumbass like you would probably just give me some crap that would piss me off even more.”

…Hey, should I be offended?

“So the difference between our hero and the transfer student is really just a difference in the information they have at their disposal. And the transfer student is using that disparity to manipulate the protagonist like a puppet. It’s that simple. All he needs is good information that will flip the odds in his favor.”

You know…he’s right. Otonashi can do whatever she wants with me as long as I keep forgetting everything that’s happened.

“Here’s another way of putting it: Our protagonist will stand a chance if he can somehow close the gap, since it’s the biggest thing keeping him at a disadvantage. He just has to do away with that handicap.”

“…But that’s not possible,” I mutter, and Daiya lets out a snort.

“Hey, you did say the protagonist sometimes keeps his memories from the previous time, right?”

“Yeah.”

“If he can carry over the version of him that remembers the previous time, then he can have memories from the previous two times. You see what I’m getting at?”

“……Yeah, that makes sense.”

“If he can hold on to memories from the previous two times, then what’s to keep him from doing it again and recalling things from three times ago? And if he can do it from three times ago, what’s to keep him from doing four times? And so on and so on.”

“…That’s— I mean, the transfer student will be building up information the whole time, too. He’ll never catch up and fill the gap. Otona—I mean, the transfer student already has over 2,601 loops’ worth of information under her belt. Just two or three isn’t going to be enough for the hero to—”

“Then do it 100,000 times.”

“…What?”

“Sure, he’s never going to make up for those 2,601 times that are already said and done, so he should just render them meaningless instead. Once it’s been 102,601 times, though, the simple math says that gap of 2,601 will only equate to a measly two percent of his 100,000 transfers. I’d hardly call that a disparity. With that many repetitions, our hero will have what he needs to take her on. With the knowledge he’s gained and the effort he makes her expend, he can wear down the transfer student until she’s weak enough that she forgets about the cycle of repetition.”

“Really?”

Can I really do that?

“…But what if he doesn’t know how to carry over his memories?”

It’s true. I held on to my memories this time, but that was just a coincidence.

“You said the hero was able to keep his memories because the shock of seeing the dead body overwhelmed him, right?”

“Yeah…I think that’s why it happened.”

It’s the only reason I can come up with, at least, and my intuition tells me I’m right.

Seeing Haruaki’s lifeless body somehow allowed me to hold on to my memories for once.

“Then it’s simple,” Daiya says flippantly. “Our little protagonist needs to start making some corpses of his own.”

“—What?!”

I’m speechless.

“B-but I can’t—”

“Just listen. It’s definitely too much to have him actually kill somebody. A protagonist without any morals like that would just make your readers mad. That’s not what I’m talking about here. What I’m saying is that the hero needs to devise his own situations to shock himself, something on the level of seeing a dead body.”

“…Well, yeah, that would definitely work…”

“What it all boils down to at this point is that the protagonist needs be even more persistent about the Box than his rival.”

The bell rings, and Daiya turns his back on me, signaling that my audience with him is at an end.

“I’m going back to the classroom. You should hurry, too.”

“Okay…”

I don’t feel like going straight to class, though, so I stay where I am a bit longer. Daiya walks off without me.

I sigh.

“…Maybe there is a way to get through this without forgetting. But still…”

…I’d need to make it through one hundred thousand transfers. It’s logically possible, of course, but it isn’t feasible. There’s no way a human being could withstand the actual experience. It’s like asking me to take a ride in a car that could go ten thousand miles per hour just because it exists. The car might be able to go that fast, but the pressure would crush me. My—no, any normal human being’s mind would crack under the strain of one hundred thousand cycles.

If Otonashi can do it, then there’s something special about her. I never want to be the same as a monster like her.

But what if that really is the only way to beat her? Should I even be in this fight in the first place? Maybe it would be better for both of us if I just meekly raise the white flag of surrender.

I can’t even decide on that now, and I let out another long sigh.

Just when I raise my head and get moving back to the classroom…

“Ah!”

I can’t stop myself from calling out.

“…Haruaki.”

Did he hear us? Even if he didn’t, the look on his face as he emerges from behind the pillar is too grave.

All we were doing was talking about a novel, a work of fiction. For the most part.

“You know how jealous I get when I hear my friends hanging out without me. I’m A-OK with hiding and eavesdropping when I get that way. You’ll cut me some slack, right?”

Haruaki begins defending his actions without even being asked to. He talks as if he’s just joking around, but his expression stays serious the whole time.

“Now then, Hosshi…”

Haruaki scratches his head as he continues.

“…You want to try killing me?”

My breath catches in my throat.

Why on earth would he say that? It’s completely unlike him.

Haruaki watches me for a moment as I stand there in shock. I can’t even blink. After a moment, a satisfied smile rises on his face before he bursts into laughter as if he can’t hold it in any longer.

“I knew it! That was horrible, Haruaki! Don’t mess with me like that!”

“Ah-ha-ha-ha! I never thought you’d get so serious! Wow! You’re hilarious, Hosshi! Of course I was kidding!”

Yeah, he’s right. I don’t think anyone in their right mind would believe that the cycle of repetition we just talked about is actually occurring.

“Yeah, I know… You were just joking, weren’t you?”

“Of course I was. How could that be anything else? As if I would let you kill me!”

Something feels off about that last part.

“…Haruaki?”

“Yeah? What do you need my help with?”

Help? What is he talking about?

Haruaki is dead serious again.

“Well, I guess there’s only so much I can do since I’m going to lose my memories the next time the world starts over, but all the same, I’d like to lend you a hand.”

Ah, now I get it.

Haruaki believes in the Rejecting Classroom.

The whole thing sounds absolutely ridiculous, but he believes it.

“…Haruaki.”

“What’s the matter, Hosshi?”

“Um… All of that was just a scenario I thought up.”

Haruaki laughs loudly at that and remarks matter-of-factly, “C’mon, you’re lying, right?”

“Wh…?”

What? The word sticks in my throat before I can even ask.

If someone asked me to believe all this nonsense, I know I certainly wouldn’t.

“Wah-ha-ha-ha! What, are you moved by the depths of our friendship because I swallowed that story of yours, no questions asked?”

“Yeah.”

When I nod, Haruaki suddenly looks a bit taken aback.

“C’mon now… Don’t be so serious. You’ll make me blush.”

He turns a bit red and scratches his nose.

“Let me tell you something. Even Daiyan knows everything you described is really happening to you and not just some crazy story you cooked up.”

“Huh? …No, there’s no way. He’s a realist.”

Now that he mentions it, though, Daiya seemed a little unlike his usual self earlier.

After all, he did meet me where I asked him to come, and he spent his entire break time hearing me out. If he really thought this was all some idea for a novel, he would’ve called it a bunch of crap and left right then and there.

“I doubt he’s taking everything you’re saying at face value, but I get the feeling he truly believes you’re stuck in the situation you described.”

Daiya’s ideas certainly were a little peculiar for writing advice. The answers he provided were precisely what I was looking for.

“It doesn’t add up, Hosshi. You based the transfer student on Aya, right? But she only transferred to our class today. You asked Daiya for advice during our first period break. When did you have the time to put that whole story together?”

“Ah—”

He’s exactly right.

“For me, at least, I think your story is true and not some crazy delusion.”

“…Why?”

“You have to admit this is way better than the other crap you usually come up with. Your imagination just isn’t that good.”

“Hey, that’s mean…”

“But I would have believed it even if you were really smart, or at least the type who could whip up a story like that off the top of his head.”

“…Why?”

“’Cause you’re my friend.”

Whoa, what’s this guy saying?

Now I’m blushing. C’mon, how am I supposed to respond to that?

✵

Haruaki’s eyebrows furrow as he pops a fry into his mouth.

“I see. So it’s looking like our sweet Aya…well, Aya Otonashi is the one who killed me.”

We’re at McDonald’s at Haruaki’s suggestion. It’s the middle of the afternoon, and we’re sitting in the restaurant still in our school uniforms, having left early for the day after falsely claiming to be ill. I keep fidgeting, worried about the gazes of others around us.

“I wonder if she could sit in McDonald’s in her uniform at this time of day without feeling weird.”

“I’m sure Aya Otonashi could pull it off.”

Though Haruaki has supposedly fallen for her, there’s definitely animosity in his voice as he says her full name.

“That’s probably because she’s used to it after going through all this more than two thousand times.”

Otonashi is used to things going back to as if they had never happened. She isn’t going to get worked up about the events of the Rejecting Classroom anymore.

Which means she’s adjusted to all this craziness. Can she even really be considered sane anymore?

She is potentially trying to kill me.

“I suppose you think you’ve escaped from me.”

My heart freezes in my chest.

The voice of the person I was just thinking of came from nowhere. I can’t turn around, even though I heard its source behind me. I’m as mobile as concrete.

Why is she here? We didn’t even tell Daiya where we were going.

Otonashi circles around in front of us. I can’t lift my gaze to look at her.

“I’ll let you in on something, Hoshino,” she says with a smirk. “I’ve experienced March second 2,602 times now. I’ve spent all that time with my classmates who are completely unaware they’re repeating the same day over and over. They haven’t changed in the slightest.”

She quietly places her white hands on the table. Just that is enough to petrify me.

“People change. Their values change. It’s no simple matter to predict their behavior. However, it’s pathetically easy to predict the actions of scum trapped in a stagnant puddle like you. Especially when it’s March second every time. I know all your conversation patterns. Predicting the behavior of a fairly inactive high school student like you couldn’t be easier, Hoshino.”

I’m all too aware of the information advantage Daiya described. Before, my understanding was that he was referring to details about the Rejecting Classroom or the Box, but that wasn’t necessarily the case. The most problematic knowledge she has at her disposal is what she has on me, Kazuki Hoshino. By the same token, what I need to get my hands on is info about Aya Otonashi. That’s what Daiya was trying to tell me from the get-go and why he told me that going through the repetitions would allow me to whittle away at the gap between us.

“Do you understand now? There is no escape for you, Hoshino. You’re firmly in my grasp. It would be so easy to crush you if I wanted to, but if I did, I would also lose the valuable object in your possession. That’s the only reason I’m holding back. So I hope you understand. You’d better not do anything to make me angry.”

Otonashi grabs my hand.

“Stay quiet and come with me. Do what I say and keep your mouth shut.”

Her grip isn’t strong. I could shake it off easily if I wanted to, but am I capable of that…? No, I’m not. Aya Otonashi has absorbed me completely. I know it sounds pathetic. All the same, I just can’t oppose her. I don’t even know how.

Still, despite my utter inability to fight back, Otonashi lets go of me.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she says.

I haven’t shaken off her hand, so her hostile question isn’t directed at me.

“What’re you doing?! …Ah!”

It’s for Haruaki, who pulled Otonashi’s hand off me.

“I’m not going to let you take Hosshi. Don’t you get that? Are you stupid or something?”

Haruaki’s challenge sounds childish, and his face is tense. He’s definitely acting. I’ve never known Haruaki to censure others like this.

Naturally, his obvious bluff isn’t enough to move Otonashi.

“That’s not what I’m asking. You’re the one with dull wits, Usui. Your actions are futile. Meaningless. It seems you’ve decided to help Hoshino, but all of that is part of a waking dream that will shortly fade to nothingness. Next time, you won’t see me as an enemy. You’ll probably even profess your love to me again.”

Haruaki recoils under the verbal assault, probably because he knows it’s all true. Once the world is reset, he’ll forget everything he discussed with me today. She’s his enemy now, but when the next loop comes around, he’ll be just as infatuated with her as before. He’s stuck in a mire of despair.

Despite having been confronted with this truth, Haruaki is still clenching his fists.

“No, I still think you’re the one having trouble understanding, Otonashi. Sure, I might get reset each time so that I have no clue what’s going on. I can’t hold on to my memories, and I’m not smart like Daiya. But I know I can trust myself.”

“I don’t understand. What are you getting at?”

“Think about it, Otonashi. Are you positive I’m completely incapable of change?”

“Of course. You can’t do anything.”

“Ha! You’ve got it backward. If I can’t change, that also means I can guarantee certain things will be true for me in the next reality. After all, I’m going to be exactly the same person I was this time. It’s easy to imagine. As long as Hosshi explains things to me, I know I’ll trust him and lend him a hand every step of the way. I’d never abandon a friend like Hosshi, no matter what reality we’re in. You keep that in mind, Otonashi.”

Haruaki jabs a finger at her as he continues.

“As long as Kazuki Hoshino is your enemy, then you’ve made an enemy of me as well. And I can never die.”

To be honest, his pose as he makes his declaration isn’t remotely impressive. It’s forced, he’s obviously trying to put up a strong front, and his hands are shaking. There’s no hiding how frightened he is. Haruaki’s usually a complete goofball. He’ll never be able to deliver cool lines like that convincingly.

Still, it’s more than enough to warm my heart.

He may look silly, but there isn’t a single hint of doubt in his voice. No fancy words. He’s just saying what comes naturally to him.

“…”

Otonashi is, of course, unfazed by Haruaki and his slightly awkward stance.

But she doesn’t have an immediate comeback for him, either. Her lips purse together in an unpleasant grimace for several seconds.

“You speak like you think I’m the evil one here, even though it’s because of Kazuki Hoshino that we’re trapped in the Rejecting Classroom.”

Otonashi’s words are pointed and precise. I can see them hitting home with Haruaki. But still…

“I don’t make mistakes when it comes to choosing friends.”

Haruaki’s opinion will not be swayed. He’s frightened, but he refuses to look away.

I’m getting worried. This is Aya Otonashi we’re dealing with. She isn’t the one who’s going to suffer from having a permanent enemy. Haruaki is. Each time, someone he’s naturally attracted to is going to treat him with resentment for what appears to be no reason. He’s setting himself up for an endless cycle of pain.

All the while, Otonashi is never going to feel an iota of pressure, no matter how much Haruaki snaps at her.

Still…

“This is getting tedious.”

Otonashi is the first to avert her gaze and turn away.

“All your actions here today will just be rendered meaningless, anyway.”

And with that, she leaves.

If it were anyone besides Otonashi, I might’ve called them a sore loser.

But it didn’t sound that way at all. She didn’t seem to have taken anything Haruaki said to heart, so I wonder when she decided it was okay to accept defeat this time.

I guess that’s why she said exactly what she thought. She concluded it would be easier to manage us when the circumstances were more agreeable.

Otonashi doesn’t harbor any emotion whatsoever toward us. She isn’t afraid of us, naturally, but she also doesn’t bear any anger or contempt toward us.

So…why did she…?

No, I know the reason—it was just my imagination. I was mistaken. I clearly read the situation incorrectly. Still, it really, really seemed, just for a second, that I saw a touch of sadness pass across her face.

“Hey, Hosshi!”

Haruaki speaks, still eying the automatic door Otonashi left through moments earlier.

“Do you think I’m gonna get killed?”

My first instinct is to say there’s no way that could happen, but when I realize he might be right, I swallow the words.

✵

In the end, it’s raining on the morning of the 2,602nd March 3. Even though I take a longer route to avoid the scene of the accident, I end up arriving at school early.

It isn’t so much that I want to avoid Otonashi’s attack as I just never want to witness anything like that ever again.

Daiya is already in the classroom when I arrive. He approaches as soon as he catches sight of me.

“What’s up, Daiya?”

Something keeps him from answering right away. He’s peering closely at my eyes. While he’s still as skilled as ever at keeping his thoughts hidden, there’s clearly something unusual going on.

“…So, hey, about that book idea we were talking about yesterday…”

Daiya’s tone is intentionally light as he mentions my novel, or more precisely, my beliefs about how things are occurring.

“I was curious about something. Why doesn’t the transfer student lose her memories each time like the protagonist does?”

I don’t have a good response, probably because I don’t know why he’s bringing this up.

“The protagonist can’t hold on to his memories even though he’s the one responsible for creating the Rejecting Classroom. Even if the transfer student has some special ability, doesn’t it seem a little cheap for her to automatically keep her memories after each repetition? I think you should make it so both characters have to use the same methods to maintain their memories.”

“…You might be right.”

I agree without thinking about the implications too much. I’m not entirely sure what he’s trying to say, I guess because Daiya’s still talking like this is all for a novel.

“The hero’s able to retain his memories because he sees a dead body, right?”

“…I think so.”

“And he sees the body because someone got hit by a truck, correct? There’s no way the transfer student, who has experienced this same day 2,601 times, didn’t know that truck was going to lose control. So if she’s somehow involved in this accident, you can be sure she meant for it to happen. That’s why you presented the death of the hero’s friend as a murder.”

I nod.

“But that’s what bothers me.”

“What? Is there something wrong with that approach?”

“No, you’re on the right track. It was most definitely an attack on the protagonist. What I’m getting at is that maybe witnessing the accident was a prerequisite for him to keep his memories. There’s no point to the attack if he’s just going to forget it all right away.”

“I’m not sure what you’re trying to tell me here…”

“So the transfer student wants to take the Box from the protagonist, right?”

“Right.”

“Try thinking from her perspective. She’s finally found her guy, the one she’s been searching for. She could’ve just kept quiet, but instead she goes to the trouble of explaining everything to him. Which opponent would it be easier to take the Box from—one who’s completely oblivious, or one who’s on guard? The oblivious one, of course. If that’s the case, then why do you think she bothers explaining everything to him?”

“Ummm… I guess because she thinks he’s going to forget?”

“That’s right. She judges there isn’t any harm in telling him. Explaining everything to the protagonist is probably a bit of a pastime for her at this point. You could even call it careless.”

“But she had to have set up the accident, right? Which means it could only have been an attack on me, so…?”

“I’m sure she set it up. But try thinking of it this way: The transfer student didn’t expect the protagonist to see the body.”

So in other words, she caused the accident for some other purpose than attacking me?

I think over our conversation again.

“Ah—”

I hurriedly look around the classroom. The transfer student, Aya Otonashi, is nowhere to be found. She’s probably still at the scene of the accident.

“It can’t be… She’s insane!”

“Of course she is. There’s no way someone who’s adjusted to living the same day 2,602 times could be right in the head.”

Aya Otonashi is killing people.

Not as an attack on me, but as a way of retaining her memories.

I remembered. I didn’t want to, but I remembered. The 2,601st time wasn’t the first time that accident took place. It could have happened 2,600 times before then.

If this is true, does it mean that Otonashi kills someone each time she transfers?

Can I really just sit back and let this happen?

Is Haruaki going to be murdered this time, too?

“Haruaki!”

“Huh? What’s up, Hosshi?”

Standing over by the door is the man himself, who’s just arrived.

What does this mean? If he isn’t the victim, then… Oh. The dead body doesn’t necessarily have to be Haruaki’s, it seems.

“That’s enough about your book for now, Kazu. Let’s get down to the real matter at hand.” Daiya continues on, paying no mind to Haruaki. “I heard there was an accident just now.”

He pauses a breath, then speaks.

“A truck hit Aya Otonashi.”

Um, what the—?

Oh, I get it.

It works perfectly fine if she’s the victim, too.